


Waiting

by Zoya1416



Category: Discworld
Genre: Gen, Very old, Wuffles is old, You know what I mean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-28 23:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13914285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya1416/pseuds/Zoya1416
Summary: Wuffles is very old.





	Waiting

Havelock Vetinari had wondered what he would do when this day came. He had not guessed he'd spend hundreds of dollars to prevent it. He spent little of the city's money--everyone knew it. Could see it--in his clothes, his office. Now though--

He gave as few parties as he could, and he did not stint society's needs for fiddly sandwiches and good drink, but they were not gold-sprinkled bacchanals. But shamefully, perhaps, he'd hidden pastilles in special diets, coaxed nasty brews down the little throat--even persuaded old Mossy Lawn to try something, find someone--and Mossy had looked kindly, shaken his head.

'Eighteen, your Lordship. He's old. That's it.'

He knew. He just hadn't known how numb he would feel. Now he sat on an old sofa in his quarters, holding the little animal on his lap--maybe it wasn't time yet. He'd put on more coals than he liked for himself, keeping the dog warm. But the tiny ruffs were becoming whines of pain, and he couldn't abide it more. 

He picked up the final little cup and let Wuffles smell the rich broth, then slipped in a few special drops as the dog licked slowly. It didn't take long at all.

Rufus had been sitting on the sofa with him, silent, helping him wait. When the dog stopped breathing, they continued to sit quietly. After a bit Rufus handed him a cup of tea.

'We could clip a bit of fur, sir. You could keep it--'

He was furious. 'What, like a stupid boy? In a locket, I suppose!' Rufus wasn't this kind of idiot.

'No, sir.' Rufus handed him a small grey velvet drawstring bag, and a pair of cuticle scissors.

For half a second he considered stabbing his secretary, and not with the little scissors. Then he realized it was only grief making him angry.

'I'll do that.' He took a tiny snip from the soft silky back feathering, and gave the bag to Rufus. Then they sat together longer, watching the fire.


End file.
